


Interlude (Nomenclature)

by leiascully



Series: The FBI's Most Unwanted [42]
Category: The X-Files
Genre: Gen, Names, Partnership
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-12
Updated: 2015-10-12
Packaged: 2018-04-26 00:32:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 420
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4982926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leiascully/pseuds/leiascully
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>No one would ever say her name the way that he did.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Interlude (Nomenclature)

**Author's Note:**

> Timeline: season 2  
> A/N: Written for the XFWritingChallenge on Tumblr.  
> Disclaimer: _The X-Files_ and all related characters are the property of Chris Carter, 1013 Productions, and Fox Studios. No profit is made from this work and no infringement is intended.

"Scully," he said, and "Mulder," she replied, and that was all they needed to say.

She noticed once that they spoke each other's names constantly, even when they were the only two people in a room. Her name in his mouth contained multitudes, despite his monotone. She knew from a couple of syllables whether he was irritated or tender, curious or wry. He could reassure her or warn her. She knew if he was full of himself or hollow inside. "Scully," he called her, the way he always had, except for when her father had died. Her given name had been too much in his voice, in that hushed, gentle voice he'd used to cushion her from her grief. 

"Mulder," she said, and his name felt like velvet on her tongue, like old red wine. It warmed her. It made her mouth tingle. Her lips were stained with his name. 

She didn't believe he'd made his parents call him Mulder, or anyone else, for that matter. She was certain he'd been Fox for most of his life, whether or not he loathed it. But to her, he was Mulder, and she liked that, liked that they had recontextualized each other, rechristened each other with the names they'd carried for decades. 

She wore her name around her neck like her cross, the cross that had lain against his skin while she was missing. He tucked her name in his cheek like one of his sunflower seeds. They checked in on each other; he could touch her from across the room with his eyes and the shape of her name parting his lips. She could purse her lips into the first mm of the M and he would look up.

He seemed to say her name more often now. She knew he worried about her, after the abduction, after Pfaster. Sometimes when he said it, it drew a curtain between them and the rest of the world, like he could shield her from everything outside the space their shoulders blocked out. Other times, he flourished it the way they flourished their badges and heir names gleamed with authority. "I'm Agent Mulder," he said, "and this is my partner, Special Agent Dana Scully." 

Their names. Their touchstones. Their private lingua franca. Their wartime codetalk. 

No one would ever say her name the way that he did. She liked it that way. Their names belonged to each other, a secret they spoke of openly, that hid in plain sight.  
“Mulder,” she said. “It’s me.”


End file.
